


you make me so high

by daydoodles



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Alcohol, House Party, M/M, Post-Canon, Recreational Drug Use, Shotgunning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-04
Updated: 2016-07-04
Packaged: 2018-07-20 01:10:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7385011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daydoodles/pseuds/daydoodles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Kent Parson is hesitant, but ends up making the right decision, for multiple reasons.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you make me so high

**Author's Note:**

  * For [alternatively_troublesome](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alternatively_troublesome/gifts).



> This was the perfect prompt for me you don't understand!! I LOVE KENT AND SHITTY AND SHOTGUNNING OH GOD would you believe me if I told you this is literally based off of my own experience? Oops.
> 
> Anyway, the specific prompts I got were about Kent being chill with Zimbits and Shitty/Kent in general so I tried to combine them...hopefully it does your ideas justice!
> 
> Oh and last thing, the title's from [So High](https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=nmPSlcRfwmk) by Ghost Loft. x

Kent’s surprised when he gets the text from Jack.

All it says is a simple, _You should come to the graduation party we’re throwing for Bits at the Haus this Friday._ He hesitates; they've been on good terms since before Jack and Bitty came out, but he's never felt particularly close to either of them. Granted, he and Jack have come a long way since the disastrous kegster of 2014, but they'll never be the same as they used to be. It's inevitable, and unavoidable, and Kent isn't sure he can face it. Besides which, he doesn't want to ruin Bitty’s party by showing up just because Jack invited him out of pity. But Jack insists that Bitty knows he's invited Kent, and the Aces have an off week anyway, so Kent honestly can't make a good excuse to get out of it.

Which is how he finds himself on the front porch of the Haus, godawful pop music already blaring through the walls, taking a deep breath to brace himself as he swings the door open. Once he's inside he can literally feel the bass rippling through his body, but he ignores it in favour of finding Bitty. This is his party after all, and Kent’s not about to ignore that. He's even brought a present, and he doesn't feel like carrying it around all night if he's being honest.

“Kenny!” he hears from somewhere to his right. He turns, and Jack’s flashing him a smile from where he's stood with his arm around Bitty’s shoulders.

“Hey Zimms!” he yells over the music, sticking his hand out to fist bump Jack. Bitty smiles at him, and he awkwardly holds out the maroon gift bag. “This is for you, so congrats on graduating college. Wish I coulda done it.” He smiles a little, hoping the room is dark enough to hide his blush despite the fairy lights that hug the ceiling.

“Thanks, honey! I'll open it tomorrow when I'm not tipsy,” Bitty says with a dazzling grin, and yeah, Kent gets why Jack likes the kid. He's never going to admit as much, though.

“What are you gonna do now, Bitty?” he asks, and he doesn't miss the way Jack glances down to meet his boyfriend’s gaze.

“I’ll probably move to Providence, maybe open a bakery or somethin’. Nothing too drastic I guess.” He shrugs a shoulder, bumping against Jack’s ribs. “I'll have my hands full with this one anyway, Lord help me.”

“That sounds great. I'm so happy for you guys, really. Good luck, dude.” He holds out a hand, expecting Bitty to shake it or give him a fist bump or something (he isn't sure what he expects, really), but Bitty just pulls him close for a hug. He drags Jack with him though, and after an awkward group hug followed by giggling and more small talk Kent says he'll leave them to themselves.

They part ways, Bitty and Jack mingling with newcomers to the party, and some random frat boy shoves a cup in Kent’s hand. He doesn't have any idea what's in it, but after tasting it he reasons it's got some sort of vodka and fruit juice concoction. It's nasty as hell, and he's never been one for drinking anyway, despite popular belief. He usually just nurses the same drink all night; his party boy reputation must be upheld, even if it isn't entirely accurate.

There is one person he knows he can count on, though, so he sets off into the crowd in search of an iconic mop of hair he's come to know well over the years. They haven't kept in touch as much recently, since Harvard law school is “a bitch,” but Kent knows Shitty has to be around somewhere. He keeps the solo cup in his hand as he wanders, just so no one else tries to hand him another drink.

He finds Shitty exactly where he thought he would; the basement, lounging on a couch that's even nastier than the monstrosity upstairs, debating with Lardo about some new art piece she's made. Apparently it's meant to be symbolic or whatever, but Kent doesn't pay much attention to the conversation because he's too mesmerised by Shitty himself.

The first thing Kent registers is that Shitty’s cut off his hair; and it's shocking, but it's not a bad thing. Actually, Kent kind of...loves it. Shitty has always been attractive, but with his new cropped hair and perfectly groomed mustache he's definitely giving off hot dad vibes. Kent’s into that, okay. Not to mention, he's in a blue flannel that makes his eyes pop beautifully, and a goddamn vest. Who even wears vests anymore? Shitty Knight, that's who, and he gives Kent heart palpitations in the process.

“Yo, Parser!” Shitty calls as soon as he notices Kent hovering by the stairs. He waves him over, yanking him down on the couch with him and Lardo as soon as Kent’s within reach. “What's up, brah?”

Kent shrugs a little halfheartedly. “Nothing, really. Just hockey, yanno?”

“Yeah I get that man, my life has become consumed with the intense stimulation of law school.”

“Do you have to word it like that?” Lardo cuts in, rolling her eyes affectionately.

Shitty ignores her. “Oh yeah, how's your cat?”

“Kit? She's good. She's getting really fat since Bitty started sending me homemade cat treats for her, though.” He quirks a smile, knowing he won't have the heart to tell Bitty so.

Shitty laughs, loud and bright as ever. “Leave it to Bitty to come up with something like that. He's a keeper, for sure.”

Their conversation is interrupted by a group of girls asking Lardo to play beer pong with them, so they exchange brief goodbyes and she's on her way. “Will she be alright?” Kent asks, because Lardo already looks a little too tipsy for beer pong.

“She's good. Takes a lot more than a cup of tub juice to throw off her game.”

“I think I played her once, but I may have blacked out after so who knows if that actually happened.”

“Dude, it totally did. She wiped the floor with you, you were so fucking wasted.” Shitty goes to take a sip of his drink, only to find it’s empty. “You know what that means,” he says as he turns to Kent.

“Time to smoke?”

“Hell yeah.”

-

Ten minutes later, Shitty’s rounded up a bong and a stash of weed he got from god knows where, and he's asking one of his teammates if he can borrow his grinder. The guy lights up immediately, asks if he can join, and Shitty says it’s fine as long as Kent’s okay with it. He doesn't care either way, so they stop by the other guy’s room to get his stuff. At some point they acquire another member, a redhead that's complaining about something called “Nursey patrol.” They all assure him he doesn't have to come with them, but he insists it’s fine, so the four of them make their way to the bathroom.

Kent isn't sure when it became an unofficial Haus rule to only smoke in your own room or the bathroom (with the vent turned on), but he guesses it's been a long-established tradition because it's been that way since before Jack came to Samwell. They're opting for the bathroom this time since Shitty and Kent don't have rooms in the Haus, and the other two share a room, but apparently it's the redhead’s first time. They don't want to overwhelm him, so they figure it's best to give him the option of sanctuary in his room if he needs it.

Shitty gets to work with the grinder, and Kent changes out the bong water because he doesn't trust that Shitty does it often enough. Nursey - which is apparently the name of the guy whose grinder they borrowed - gets to work setting up a cup for the ashes and getting them all glasses of water just in case, while the other guy just sits there on the floor nervously.

Kent’s just waiting at this point too, so he leans to the redhead and says, “Hey, you know if this makes you uncomfortable you don't have to do it. We’ll take good care of Nursey.”

He shakes his head, but it kind of looks like he's directing it at himself more than at Kent. “No, I want to try. I'll let you know if I change my mind.”

“Alright, cool…”

“Dex.”

“Nice to meet you Dex, I'm Kent.”

“I know.”

“Awh Dexy, be more polite!” Nursey chirps, and Dex visibly relaxes.

Shitty’s got the bong loaded with a hit by this point, so he takes the lighter Nursey offers him and walks Dex through the steps as he smokes.

“Alright so just put your mouth here, and hold the flame at a 45-degree angle, and inhale pretty fast so you hear a bubbling sound. Once you see it's torched, just take out the piece and inhale with whatever room you have left in your lungs, but make sure you really get it deep. Don't just hold it in your mouth like a cigarette. And if you need to take another breath, you can always cap it off with your hand till you're ready. Got it?”

Dex furrows his brow. “Uh, not really.”

“Just watch us, that usually helps,” Kent reassures him, and Nursey and Shitty nod.

“I'll go slow, so pay attention,” Shitty says as he meticulously takes a hit. Dex watches with rapt attention, but he doesn't look any less confused by the time Shitty’s done.

He passes the bong to Kent, who takes it and empties the ashes into the cup. After he packs the bowl, he raises his eyebrows at Dex, who nods. He takes his hit considerably faster than Shitty had, which does nothing to ease Dex’s confusion.

Nursey’s demonstration is met with much the same dilemma, so they decide it might be best for Dex to shotgun his first time. “It's usually not as intense that way anyway, in case you don't like it,” Nursey assures him.

“I don't even know how to shotgun, Nurse.”

“We can teach you!” Shitty volunteers happily, and then he's pulling Kent closer before packing another hit and Kent’s a little worried that what he thinks is happening is actually happening.

Then Shitty inhales deeply, holding the smoke in his lungs before leaning toward Kent; and their lips are so close, Kent can feel Shitty’s mustache tickling his nose, and that's probably more intoxicating than the drug itself. But Shitty exhales slowly, as Kent breathes it in, and if their lips brush a little as they part no one mentions it. Dex does, however, turn bright red.

“Do you trust me?” Nursey asks him, and Dex nods. Nursey returns the gesture, and takes his hit quickly before placing his hand on the back of Dex’s neck, palm firmly pulling him closer till they're so close they go cross eyed. He taps his thumb against Dex’s jugular, which prompts the redhead to open his mouth, and then they're breathing in tandem just like Shitty and Kent had done earlier.

And then Dex nearly coughs out a lung. “Jesus Christ, why do you like this?” he spits out as Nursey hands him his water.

“You get used to it,” is all the advice Shitty has for him, and Kent can't argue there.

Dex tells them he's over it, it's not for him; and he doesn't seem to be talking about the weed so much as the part about shotgunning with Nursey, if his skittish glances and cheeks that clash with his hair are anything to go by. So naturally, when he all but runs out of the bathroom, Nursey follows him. “Sorry, I gotta deal with this,” is the only explanation he gives.

“Good luck,” Kent mumbles at the closed door, as Shitty’s already taking another hit.

“You good, man?” he asks once he's done, and Kent nods as he takes the bong from Shitty’s hands.

“Yeah, I'm gonna enjoy this while I can.” And he means it, because he doesn't typically get chances to smoke, what with being a professional athlete and all. He wouldn't be able to play well if he had a highover, not to mention the fact that it's illegal in some states.

They pass the bong back and forth a few more times, and then they really start to feel it. Kent recognises the beat of “Partition” through the door, and Shitty starts serenading him as they lay on the cold tile. If Kent was sober, maybe it would occur to him that a nasty frat house bathroom floor is not the best place to have your face, but some things can't be helped in the moment. And he's far too absorbed in watching Shitty’s imitation of Beyoncé to care about hygiene at the moment.

At some point, Kent’s mouth goes numb, and then he knows it's about to hit him hard. His hands are shaking, and he wants to get off the floor, at least sit up, but somehow he misses the edge of the tub and falls into it instead. Shitty laughs, but Kent can't tell if it's because he saw what just happened or he's just delirious. Either way, it has Kent laughing too.

So they lay there, Shitty taking up the bathroom floor and Kent sprawled out in the tub, and Shitty’s rambling on about something Kent can't quite place, but Kent’s lost in his eyes anyway even though neither of them can focus on anything at the moment. Kent does register that Shitty mentions Britney Spears at some point, and also something about a ham sandwich, but that's all. Eventually, he tugs on Shitty’s arm and drags him into the tub with him for no apparent reason.

Kent's always been the type of person who gets touchy when he's high; it makes him want to curl up against whoever’s closest and snuggle the night away. Which, at this moment in time, happens to be Shitty, so he does just that. He's got his head resting on Shitty’s shoulder and their bodies are tangled up somehow to fit inside the tub and Kent isn't sure when Shitty started combing his fingers through his hair but he isn't complaining. Which, speaking of hair.

“Why'd you cut it?”

Shitty stops mid-sentence, staring at him. “What?”

“Your hair. It was so pretty. Nice flow.”

“Ohhhhhh.” Shitty draws the word out, like he's just had some life-changing epiphany. “I thought it would look better for law school if it was short. Is it not pretty now?”

“No, I like it. You look like a hot dad at a farmer’s market.”

“Is that...a good thing?”

“I guess it depends on who you’re asking. But I think so, chyeah.”

“You have really soft hair.” He’s still petting Kent’s hair, and it feels heavenly.

“Don't talk about it, it's embarrassing,” Kent says as he buries his face in the general area of Shitty’s shoulder.

“What can I talk about then?”

“I dunno.”

“Then you talk.”

“Fine,” Kent sighs, lifting his head up to face Shitty. “My biggest regret is not treating Jack well, yanno.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. He deserved - no wait, still deserves - better than me.”

“Nah, you're great in your own way. Some people just aren't meant to go together, I guess.”

“But Bitty and Jack are.”

“Yeah, they're good for each other.” Shitty closes his eyes, sighing quietly. “I think you and I work pretty well together too.”

“Huh?”

“You're funny, and chill, and you're not afraid to put people in their place, but you're also not a douchebag like you used to be, and you're real cute and I think if people got to know you instead of focusing on your party boy image they'd see that you're a good guy. Maybe not as good as you could be someday, but you're getting there and really in the end that's all anybody can ask.”

Kent just stares at him even more blankly than he had been before. “What the fuck.”

“Did I make you uncomfortable?” Shitty frowns, turning a bit to see Kent’s face better.

“No,” is all Kenny says before crashing his lips against Shitty’s. It's warm, and slow, and a little rough from where Shitty’s mustache brushes against his face, but it's perfect to Kent. He wishes that he could feel it more, that his lips weren't so numb and his mind wasn't so distant.

Shitty pulls away abruptly, like he's thinking the same thing. “Dude. We’re not sober enough for this.”

“It's just kissing,” Kent says, confused.

“I know, but. I've liked you for a while and I don't want to do this while I'm balls high and you're -”

Kent interrupts him with another kiss, and this time Shitty doesn't argue. They can talk more tomorrow, but for now they have better things to do.


End file.
